


Won't You Help Me Make This Wish Come True?

by DuchessKitty16



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Bucket List, Chef Harry Styles, Grandparents & Grandchildren, M/M, Songwriter Louis Tomlinson, grandparents dating
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-15
Updated: 2019-12-15
Packaged: 2021-02-26 18:20:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 13,709
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21802888
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DuchessKitty16/pseuds/DuchessKitty16
Summary: Harry is determined to help his grandfather Richard get through his bucket list. Problem is, #3 on the list is to "propose to the pretty girl down the lane", who just happens to be the grandmother of Louis Tomlinson, the boy Harry had a crush on as a teen.Harry and Louis work together to make dreams come true and make a love connection between their grandparents. But will some magic spark between Louis and Harry along the way?
Relationships: Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson
Comments: 16
Kudos: 120
Collections: 28 Proposals Fic Fest





	1. It begins

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much to Lauren and everyone else involved in making this fic fest come to life, and for being so patient and understanding with me when I need more time to finish. Only half of this was beta'd so any grammar mistakes or plot holes are entirely my fault.  
> I hope you enjoy this short story. 
> 
> There is a song in this story referenced to Louis as the songwriter but in reality the writer is Tori Kelly. I hope she can forgive any liberties I took for the sake of the story.

It all started somewhat simply with Harry getting one of his grandfather’s infamously cryptic texts.

_I need a new suit_

Harry looked down at his phone lying on the butcher block table in front of him as it chimed and displayed this message. He was busy laminating the puff pastry he was making, which involves a tedious process of folding sheets of butter into the rolled-out layers of dough. Harry’s arm muscles flexed and worked as he folded, rolled, and folded again the specific number of times he needed. Harry smiled at the text from his grandpa Richard, but quickly forgot it as he moved on to the next of a dozen tasks that he needed to finish before the lunch and dinner rushes happened at the restaurant.

Only later, when he had changed out of his chocolate and pastry cream splattered chef’s jacket and was contemplating what to eat for dinner, did Harry remember the text from that morning and pulled out his phone only to see that his grandfather had followed it up with several more.

_I need you to help me with it_

_Want to go where your stepfather got his made_

_You know the place. Come to me on Saturday morning_

_Then I can also show you my vegetable garden_

Harry audibly sighed. He loved his grandfather dearly and tried to spend as much time with him as possible since his grandmother had died four years before, but sometimes his timing was shitty. Harry guessed that he wasn’t going to be able to stay out late on his date Friday night after all, if he was going to have to drive all the way from London to Ince-in-Makerfield in the morning. Harry couldn’t decide if this was a good thing or bad because he had a date that night and he was torn between making it an early night so that he could get up early to drive to his grandfather’s or giving into his libido. He was going on a first date with Stanford, a barrister, and it was a blind one that his friend Niall had set up.

Putting out on a first date and then doing a walk of shame early Saturday morning back to his place was never Harry’s concept of a good idea. But Harry was excited about the date and if he was being honest, he was horny as all get out, so he’d kept the option open for some action after they went to a play and had a late supper. As he made his way out the back entrance of the restaurant and headed towards his tube station, he contemplated his options. Have a nice night with Stanford and hopefully get some action in the form of at least a handjob? Or getting plenty of sleep in order to keep up with his grandfather? The man was in his late 70s and had more energy than Harry did at 26.

Turns out Harry didn’t have anything to worry about with his date with Stanford the Barrister. The man was nice and their dinner very pleasant, but Harry hadn’t felt any bit of a spark, not even for some mindless hook-up sex. In fact, Harry could tell that Stanford was way too vanilla for one-night stands and would probably be boring in bed. There was little chance that he’d ever be willing to spank Harry or restrain him in any way, much less any of the other kinks that Harry was into. Sure, oftentimes the buttoned up prissy folks were secretly the freakiest in the bedroom, but Harry could tell that Stanford wasn’t an undercover freak. Lord, what was he even going on about? It had been so long since Harry had had sex with anyone other than his own hands, he’d take even an over the clothes petting and make-out session as long as it was with another warm human. Horny beggars couldn’t be choosers.

Harry put all thoughts about his pathetic love life aside and hopped in the old Peugeot that his father had given him almost 8 years ago and was still miraculously driving; he headed north towards his grandfather’s house.


	2. The Plan

Harry pulled the car to a stop next to the storefront with its discreet sign that read Richard Smith Bespoke. He got out of the car and then walked around to help his grandfather step out because of the dodgy door handle that sometimes fell in your lap when a passenger tried to get out of his heap of a car.

Richard looked pleased at the shop and its sign and remarked that if they made suits as smart as they did their advertising, he’d be very happy. Harry smiled in response as held open the door to the shop.

Inside they were greeted by a sales associate who introduced himself as Thomas and asked how he could be of service.

“I would like to have a tailor-made suit for myself, no expense spared.” Richard declared proudly, standing a bit straighter and lifting his chin. Harry and Thomas shared a smiling look.

“Of course, sir. Is it for a specific occasion or just a nice gift to yourself?”

“Well you see, I’ve always wanted to have a nice suit that was made for me and no one else. There’s nothing classier than a man in a bespoke suit. But since you asked, it is actually for a special occasion. It’ll be my wedding suit.”

Harry dropped the bow tie he had been looking at in shock and whipped his head around to face his grandfather.

“WEDDING? What on earth grandad?!”

Richard waved a dismissive hand in Harry’s direction and continued speaking to Thomas. “Pay my grandson no mind. It doesn’t really matter what it’s for anyway. I’m not here for a morning suit or anything like that. I want a nice, custom suit made that I can wear to a number of events, even my own wedding if and when that happens,” Richard held his hand up once again in Harry’s direction as he sputtered a protest, “and maybe I can have a few different waistcoats done that I can switch out and allow the suit more wear?”

Thomas took a small notebook out of suit pocket and began making notes. He led Richard towards the back of the store to begin taking his measurements and beginning the process.

Harry immediately took out his phone and texted his sister, Gemma.

**Grandad says he’s getting married! Has mum said anything to you??**

_What? NO_

**I KNOW**

_Hold on calling mum will conference you in_

A moment later Harry’s phone lit up with a call from Gemma and he answered it, walking away from Richard and Thomas who seemed to be in deep discussion about wool.

His mother Anne’s voice came over loud and a bit panicked.

“Harry, what’s this all about Da getting MARRIED?”

“I dunno mum, we’re in Manchester at that place where Robin got his suit made and when the salesman asked him what the suit was for, he said his wedding!”

Gemma piped in, “could he have meant a suit to _go to a_ wedding?”

“I don’t think so?”, Harry replied but began to think he might have misunderstood his grandfather. “I’m going back to his house this afternoon. I’ll try to get more answers then.”

“Please do. Alright dear, keep us posted.” Anne ended her part of the call.

“Harry, you don’t think it’s Mrs. Malik do you?”, Gemma questioned.

“Mrs. Malik? The sweet lady done the road from grandad? Why on earth would you think that?”

“Because grandad has had a serious crush on her for years. Since probably before her husband died actually. Maybe he finally got around to asking her out?”

“Gem, wouldn’t we know if he had been dating someone, especially Mrs. Malik, for long enough to know he wanted to marry them?’

“Not necessarily. He can be a right secret keeper. I wouldn’t put it past him. Anyway, I just read a thing that said that people in their 70s and 80s move quicker in relationships because they feel like they don’t have time to waste.”

“Why were you reading about that?”

“Never mind Harry. Anyway, go grill him and get back to me.” Gemma clicked off.

Harry walked back over to find Richard standing on a small raised platform, being measured and with a bolt of lovely gray and purple checked wool hanging over his arm.

“What do you think of this fabric, Harry?”

“It’s lovely, grandad.” Harry smiled. Whatever the suit’s purpose, Harry hadn’t seen his grandfather this happy in a long time.

******************************************************

Louis was blocked. He sat at the desk in his bedroom looking out at the backyard below and tapped the pen against the notebook he had open in front of him. His laptop was also open but had gone to sleep almost an hour ago. Louis sighed and slowly brought his head down to rest on the desk. He’d sat there for over three hours and hadn’t written one damn word. He was fresh out of ideas; his mind felt like it had been wiped clean. He was going to be fired for sure.

“Louis? Come down, I’ve made us lunch.”

Louis heard his grandmother Laila call upstairs and welcomed the chance to walk away from his failure of a morning. And anyway, his rumbling stomach reminded him, he hadn’t had anything since the peach he ate a few hours ago and he was hungry.

“Coming, Daadi!”

Louis closed his laptop but picked up his notebook and pen to head downstairs to the kitchen. Maybe food and a change of location would stir up the creative juices.

Laila Malik wasn’t Louis’s real grandmother. But when she and her husband Rahul had taken in Louis, his mum Jay and his four sisters more than 15 years ago following Jay’s bad divorce, Laila had quickly taken to the role of loving mother to Jay and grandmother to Jay’s five children. Louis could still remember how scared he felt at the time, 13 and feeling the weight of being the “man of the family” suddenly and he worried that he and his mum and sisters would be forced to live in their mini-van. But then Jay had been approached by her friend Tricia, who was mum to Louis’ best friend Zayn, and had offered the two extra bedrooms in her mother-in-law’s house for them to stay in for as long as they needed. Louis had felt guilty because he’d confided in Zayn all his fears and concerns knowing that Zayn would probably tell Tricia. Louis worried that Jay would be angry at him for betraying his family’s shameful secrets. Instead, Jay was grateful and proud of her son.

Jay and her children ended up living with Zayn’s grandparents for two years, until Jay had saved enough money to buy a little house of her own nearby. By then Jay, Louis, Felicite, Lottie, and the twins Phoebe and Daphne had become a permanent part of the Malik family. Louis and Zayn had already been as close as two friends could get, but by the time they were 15 their bond was beyond what even brothers shared. Zayn was who Louis had first come out to when he was 15, and Louis was the first to know when a year later, Zayn shared that he thought he might like girls and boys equally. They were each other’s first “boy kiss”, and lent ears to listen and shoulders to cry on throughout the years. Louis and Zayn had shared a lot of highs and almost as many lows.

Even when they were living in different cities during and after uni, Zayn in Manchester and Louis in London, they still stayed close and deeply involved in each other’s lives. And of course, they shared one important thing that would always connect them. Louis had written the song that Zayn had made a top 40 hit when they were just 19 years old. For a brief time, they were both on easy street, with fame and notoriety giving them a taste of what prosperity could bring to their lives. But just as quick as success had to put them on top of the world, they’d quickly fallen, and soon afterwards no one remembered their name. Zayn had adapted well, but then again, he’d always been annoyingly easy-going and optimistic. He’d gone on to university and studied business; he hadn’t given his musical dreams up necessarily, but he’d been pragmatic and was determined to not be taken advantage of again like he had when he was 18. Zayn currently worked as a radio deejay for XS Manchester during the afternoon show. It wasn’t recording his own music, and it he didn’t even have either of the coveted “work commute time” slots at the station, but he did have complete freedom over the type of music he got to play and had been able to make contacts in the business and garner a reputation of being a good guy with a lot of talent. All in all, Zayn wasn’t doing too bad.

Louis had also headed back to uni, but he had been much more reluctant, and still bitter about the fact that Zayn hadn’t gotten the huge recording contract that he’d been promised and the stardom that he deserved. Louis truly didn’t really care about fame for himself, but he was determined that the world knew how amazing Zayn and his otherworldly voice were. In his early 20s, Louis managed to churn out a few more songs for singers and bands that had ended up being mildly lucrative, although not the level of hit that Zayn had. Even so, it had made him enough money to pay for uni and afford him a decent apartment in London. Louis wasn’t the happiest guy, but he was a determined one, and he had hope that things would look up soon. And either way, he knew he had Zayn in his corner to support him and be his sounding board.

It then wasn’t a surprise that Zayn was there to help Louis during one of the most difficult moments of his life. Louis was living in London way beyond his means and wracking up credit card debt. Louis wasn’t having any luck with getting his songs in the hands of any agents or artists willing to record them, he had been forced to take a freelance job with an advertising agency in order to make ends meet and he had just found out that his mother Jay had been diagnosed with cancer. Louis threw all his time and energy into being with and supporting his mother and helping his eldest sister with their younger siblings. Zayn was by his side throughout the weeks and months of Jay’s treatment and was there to hold Louis up when the family learned the sad news that Jay’s cancer had progressed beyond the limits of treatment.

After Jay’s passing, Louis fell into a deeper depression than he’d ever experienced. He found himself unable to leave his bed, much less his apartment. Within a month of his mother’s death Louis knew that he couldn’t afford to stay in London and would be evicted from his flat if he didn’t make a move, but he didn’t want to move into his mother’s house, where Lottie and her new husband had just settled in order to take care of the younger siblings. Zayn offered the couch in his studio flat in Manchester, but Louis couldn’t see that being a good idea long term. So when Laila, Louis’ beloved Daadi, offered her home which had grown quiet since the death of her husband a few years before, Louis jumped at the chance. Sure, he was technically moving in with his 73-year-old grandmother and returning to boring Ince a financial and career failure. But Louis felt a bit of confidence and hope, and that was more than he had in months.

*************************************************************************

When Harry pulled into his grandfather’s driveway, he turned off the engine and turned to him.

“Grandad, are you going to tell me what all that stuff was about earlier with the getting married thing?”

“Yes, yes. In fact, I want your help with some things involved with it. Come inside and I’ll explain.”

Once they were inside and Harry was sitting in his favorite chair in his grandfather’s living room, he watched as Richard went to the old rolltop desk in the corner and took something from one of the shelves. He walked back to Harry holding the item close to his chest.

Harry looked down at the worn leather notebook that his grandfather set in his lap. There was a list written in Richard’s neat handwriting on the first page.

Bucket list:

  1. _Have a designer suit made and tailored specifically for me. At Richard Smith Bespoke where Robin and Gemma’s young man had their suits made._
  2. _Go to Provence in the Spring_
  3. _Propose to the pretty lass down the lane_
  4. _Find Harry a girlfriend (or boyfriend?)_
  5. _Sing a love song in public_
  6. _Fly in a hot air balloon_



The list of things that Richard wanted to accomplish was relatively short, but also seemed a bit preposterous. Especially the third and fourth items; both seemingly impossible in Harry’s mind. Who was the “lass down the lane”? The obvious was Mrs. Malik, like Gemma had suggested earlier. But what if it wasn’t? What if it was Mrs. Thompson who always smelled of talc and sardines? Or that one stuck-up woman Sandra something who used to complain about Harry’s moped leaving unsightly tracks in the grass that was in front of her gate? Oh god, was it her daughter that he fancied? She was only a few years older than Gemma! What kind of potential mate prospects existed in dumb Ince anyway?

“Who are you trying to propose to who lives around here?” Harry warily asked.

“Laila Malik.”

“Mrs. Malik? I…um…uh have you been dating her?”

“Well, no. We’re just friendly neighbors currently, same as we’ve always been. But I’m aiming to ask her out soon, and then we’ll see where it goes.”

“Grampa, you can’t just jump to proposing marriage when you haven’t even gone on a date with someone.”

“Harry, when you reach my age you realize that you don’t have time to waste. I’ve known Laila for decades and although this might be a different situation, I know she’s the woman that I’d like to spend the rest of my short life with.”

“What do you mean? Is that why you’ve come up with this list and want to complete it so quickly? Are you dying, grandad?”

“Of course I’m dying, Harry.” At Harry’s squeak of shock, Richard waved him back into his seat. “I don’t mean right this minute, but I’m almost 80, son. I’ve only got a few years ahead of me.”

“A dozen at least!”, Harry protested.

“A dozen, a few, whatever. The point is that I don’t want to waste the years I do have on indecision and not fulfilling dreams that I can make a reality.”

Harry didn’t have anything to say to that, so he excused himself to use the bathroom. As he washed his hands, he thought to the last time that he’d been around Laila Malik beyond waving in greeting if he passed by her. It probably would’ve been back in year 8 during some school holiday spent at his grandparents that he and Gemma were forced into. Well, Gemma was forced. Harry always looked forward to making the trip north if it meant that he might get a chance to see or even (fingers crossed) hang out with The Malik’s grandson Zayn and his best friend Louis Tomlinson. Harry had been quite young when he realized that while he loved to hang out with girls and smell their hair and admire their soft skin, he didn’t want to do anything more with them beyond sharing a hug. Zayn, and especially Louis, made him tummy feel like feathers were tickling him from the inside and he found himself thinking about their eyelashes a lot, and if he’d feel Louis’ on his own cheek if he pressed his lips close enough. Harry hated the way his 13-year-old body reacted when he was around Louis and Zayn, but he also wanted to be around them whenever he could and prayed that they’d continue to allow him to hang out whenever he was in Ince visiting his grandparents.

Harry wondered what Louis and Zayn were like today and what they were doing. He’d of course followed Zayn’s quick and brief trip to fame with the song “Back For You”, that Louis had wrote but he hadn’t heard or seen either of them in years. He knew that Zayn was a radio dj in Manchester or someplace but hadn’t heard anything about Louis since the man had moved to London. Sometimes he fantasized about running into Louis on a busy London street and having something spark between them, but that was the extent of it.

“Hey Harry, what say you and I take a little walk down the road and pay a visit to Laila. It’s been a long time since she’s seen you and she often asks about you...”

“And I’m a convenient excuse for you to go visit her unannounced”, Harry interrupted with a look on his face begging Richard to contradict him.

“Yes well that too, I suppose.”

“Alright grampa, let’s get you a date!” Harry eagerly stood up and grabbed his jacket; excited to be included in his grandfather’s plans.

*******************************************************

Harry and Richard walked the short way down the lane until they got to the wooden gate painted a robin egg’s blue that belonged to the sweet and magical looking garden and cottage behind it. Harry was almost hesitant to open the gate latch and step into the garden for fear that it would vanish like a dream. Richard had none of these concerns and simply stepped around Harry, opening the gate and calling out to the house’s owner.

“Laila! My grandson and I have come for tea.”

Harry followed his grandfather up the steps to the cottage as its door was opened by a beautiful smiling woman with mocha colored skin and long white hair done up in a french braid. She was wearing an amazing combination of clothing that consisted of light blue corduroy overalls rolled up past her calves, a white and green striped polo jumper, and bright purple knee socks. Harry loved her immediately.

“Richard, what a lovely surprise. Come in come in. Louis and I were just putting the kettle on now.”

No sooner had Harry begun to wonder if this “Louis” really was _his_ Louis, a gorgeous man with the same soft looking light brown hair and blue eyes that he had when he was 16 came around the corner from the kitchen and greeted the visitors with a smile that made his eyes crinkle in the corners.

“Oh hello. Nice to have guests this afternoon.” Louis said with a voice that Harry decided he’d like to listen to for the rest of his life.

“Hello, Louis. Good to see you again. I’d heard that you’d moved back here.” Richard’s statement shocked Harry, who turned his head to Louis with what he knew was a surprised look on his face. Louis Tomlinson lived here? With widowed Laila Malik? In Ince-in-Makerfield? Harry hated to sound like a big city snob but, he couldn’t imagine a more boring existence than being a young, vibrant man stuck in a small village. Because that’s who Harry was staring at - a young man who although a little sad and rumpled, had a vibrancy that almost glowed around him. Louis even more handsome and charismatic than he was at 17, if that was possible. Laila invited them all to sit in the living room while Louis returned to the kitchen to presumably get the tea. As Harry watched Louis walk away he wondered in awe how it was possible for anyone to make a pair of baggy joggers look sexy. Louis and his tight round arse had found a way.

Once the four had sat with tea in hand in various chairs or as Louis had done, sprawled out on the couch in the room, the catching up began in earnest.

“Louis, what are you up to these days? Still doing your music?”

Harry looked up in interest at his grandfather’s question because he was curious too.

“No, sir. That’s all sort of stalled out at the moment. I still tinker but nothing serious.”

Harry frowned slightly, hearing the sadness in Louis’ voice.

“Oh, darling don’t say that.” Laila reached over and patted Louis’ foot. “You’ve got your jingles, and I know you’ve been writing songs. You’re always scribbling away in those notebooks of yours. You just have to have the courage to put yourself back out there.”

A silence followed and Harry could see the hurt in Louis’ pretty blue eyes. Harry hated to see them marred in any way. He decided to satisfy his curiosity.

“Jingles? Like for commercials?”

Louis nodded his answer and took a big sip of his tea, avoiding eye contact. Harry tried again.

“Anything I would know of or heard?”

“Doubt it”, Louis dismissed, “heard of Hendrickson Tires? How about the Choco Nut Coffee ad?” Louis asked this in such a self-depredating and defeated voice that Harry felt the need to FIX IT in any way he could.

“Oh! I know the coffee one! My sister Gemma and I made up our own vers…” Harry cut off abruptly, suddenly embarrassed.

“Oh yeah? You made your own version of the jingle? Let’s hear it then.” Louis crossed his arms with a small smirk on his face.

“Oh, ummm…” Harry looked between his grandfather and Laila as if they could or even would bail him out of this situation. He then turned helplessly back to Louis and his waiting, knowing smile.

“It was dirty, wasn’t it? You and your sister made up naughty words to the coffee jingle, didn’t ya? Lemme guess, something about how the coffee makes you nut?” Louis used air quotes for the last three words and wiggled his eyebrows seductively letting out a giggle, while Harry blushed a deep red.

Richard put his hand up to his mouth to cough and hide his smile but it took Laila a few seconds to catch up.

“LOUIS WILLIAM!”, she scolded.

“What? I’m not the one who made up a dirty song about liking coffee so much that you c…”

“Not another word out of you!” Laila reprimanded Louis, who could only fall back against the couch pillows laughing. Harry was torn between being mortified and being charmed by Louis.

Laila attempted to save Harry any further embarrassment by quickly changing the subject.

“Harry are you still working at that fancy bakery in Primrose Hill?”, she asked as she took a sip of her tea. “They have the best scones.”

“I’m not there anymore, no. But I do still love to go there on my days off because there’s no better place to get a fresh croissant which are my weakness. I’m currently a sous chef at a restaurant in London.”

“The BEST restaurant in London.” Richard interrupted with pride.

“Ooh, what’s the name, dear? Maybe I’ll have Louis or Zayn take me out for a nice dinner one evening.”

Richard jumped in again before Harry could answer Laila. “It’s called Spring. And Laila, it’s wonderful. It would be my privilege and honor to take you their sometime. We can have Harry do something special for us.” Richard’s eyes looked hopeful as Laila smiled.

Harry shared a knowing look with Louis and found himself blushing as Louis gave him a conspiratorial wink.

“Thank you, Richard. That would be lovely.” Laila responded with a demure smile.

Soon after, Richard made their excuses to leave and let Laila and Louis get back to their day. Harry helped Louis gather up the tea things and followed him into the kitchen.

“So? Richard basically asking my nan out on a date just now was a surprise?” Louis commented as he placed a stack of small plates in the sink.

“I didn’t expect him to make his move so quickly.”

“But you did expect him to do it?” Louis questioned.

“Can you keep a secret?” Harry asked as he put down the three teacups he was holding. Louis nodded and looked curious.

“Today my grandfather showed me this list that he’d made; a bucket list of sorts, and asking your grandmother out was one of the things on the list.

“get in! I wouldn’t have guessed that Richard had it in ‘im!” Louis laughed softly and rubbed his hands together with glee.

“Well, it’s actually worse than that. The item on his list wasn’t just to ask Laila out, it’s to propose marriage to her.” Harry revealed the last part slowly and waited for what he was sure was going to be a explosive reaction from Louis. But to his surprise Louis simply smiled and nodded, almost as if he’d expected it. “You’re not shocked?” Harry gasped out.

“No. A little surprised at the boldness maybe, but I’ve suspected for a while that your grandfather had a crush on her. “

“Evidently, he’s loved Laila for years, which honestly doesn’t make me feel too good because it feels sort of like an insult to my grandma Meredith. But he’s asked me to help him with the items on his list and I’m going to try my best.” Harry turned to go back into the sitting room but when Louis said his name he turned back around.

“Hey Harry, would you like some help? I mean, would you like me to encourage her to go out with Richard? Do you want me to help you organize the date?”

“Thanks, Louis. That would be great.” Harry smiled bringing out both of his deep dimples which only made Louis smile brighter. Harry was so happy with the way this afternoon had turned out.

“I’m serious about wanting to help you with Richard’s bucket list.” Louis said as he walked Harry to the front door. He could see Laila and Richard outside in the garden chatting.

“I’ve got a bit of free time at the moment and this would honestly be a good distraction. And I’m sure you’re super busy at the restaurant and won’t have time to do certain things. Do you have a copy of the list your grandfather showed you?”

“Yeah, I took a…” Harry clamped his mouth shut abruptly again. He’d been about to tell Louis that he’d taken a photo of the list but realized he couldn’t show it to Louis because of his grandfather’s item about Harry’s love life. He’d already embarrassed himself enough today.

“I wrote the items down. I can text them to you this evening.” Harry smiled shyly before adding, “should we exchange numbers?” Harry hoped that this didn’t sound as desperate out loud as it did in his head.

Louis gave him that one sided smile again and said, “here, unlock your phone and hand it to me.”

Harry quickly did as he was told. Why were his hands shaking so much? He was usually much smoother than this but couldn’t seem to find the confidence he usually had when being flirtatious. He watched as Louis typed something into his phone and then handed the phone back to Harry with a wink. Harry could feel a blush spread across his cheeks.

“Okay, I’ll text you.” Harry promised as he walked backwards towards the road where his grandfather was waiting.

“Alright, you do that. Bye, Harry. It was great seeing you after all this time.”

“Same. It was a nice surprise to find you here. It made what could’ve been a boring day with my gran something special.” Harry who was still walking backwards as he said this, tripped over his own feet and caught himself on the garden gate. He couldn’t possibly feel any more embarrassed if he tried.

Louis let out a giggle. “See ya, Harry.”

“Bye.” Harry waved and ran to catch up with his grandfather who was already halfway up the lane heading back to his home.

***********************************************************************

Harry waited until he had returned to his flat that evening to text Louis. When he looked in his phone contact list, he saw that Louis had put a peach emoji next to his name and number. Harry barked out a laugh and smiled opening a text thread to him.

_A peach huh?_

Harry only had to wait a few seconds before he saw three dots appear.

**Well I thought it was appropriate. I caught you checking me out.**

Harry put his head in his hand. For fucks sake, how many times was he going to make a complete fool of himself around this guy? Harry tried to think of something appropriate, yet flirty to say.

_I was just appreciating the goods. It’s something to be admired._

Ugh. Was that too much? Harry didn’t even know if Louis was single, looking, or even still into men, although the last he’d heard that was still the case. When Louis hadn’t responded back after a few minutes, Harry worried that he’d maybe gone too far.

**I have an admirable ass, do I? well well well flattery will get you everywhere, Harold**

Harry sighed with relief and carried on with his text conversation with Louis. They continued for another hour, discussing everything from Arsenal football to latest episodes of both Love Island and the Great British Bake-Off. Finally, Harry looked at the time and realized how late it was and how soon he was supposed to be up and heading into work. He quickly typed his apologies to Louis saying that he had to go, and then sent him the list of the three bucket list items that he wanted Louis’s help with, thanking him again for his assistance.

**the hot air balloon one I might be able to handle. Zayn has a friend who works part time as a balloon pilot and I bet he could get you and your grandad a discount.**

Harry typed back his thanks in a reply. The hot air balloon had honestly been something that’d flummoxed him, so he was more than happy for Louis, and he guessed Zayn’s help.

The two men promised to touch base later in the week. Harry went to bed thinking lovely thoughts about the pleasant surprises running into childhood friends could bring.

**************************************************************************

Two days later, Louis called Zayn at the radio station where he worked. Louis chose the late morning time specifically because it was before Zayn’s show started but also after he’d had his coffee, so he’d be more receptive to any of Louis’s foolishness.

“Hey Z. Does Bressie still fly hot air balloons?”

“Well that’s the most random and totally unexpected question I think I’ve been asked this week. Why? Fancy taking a ride? It’s a bit expensive you know.”

“It’s not for me, it’s for Mr. Selley. And uh, actually I need to tell you something.”, Louis hesitated, “Mr. Selley asked Daadi out on a date and she accepted.”

“What?! I never thought the old bugger had it in him. Did Daadi seem excited, or is this like a pity date?”

“No, she seems quite charmed by him. And good thing too, since he wants to marry her.” Louis wasn’t sure why he just blurted that out in that way, but he couldn’t figure out an easier way to do it.

“What the fuck are you talking about?”

“Mr. Selley wants to ask Daadi to marry him. He’s got like a whole bucket list thingie and one of the things on there is proposing to her.”

“What?! I’m sorry I keep saying this, but my brain just can’t compute this. How do you even know about it in the first place?”

“Harry, you remember him, he showed me the list. Well at least he told me the items on the list. Things like traveling to France and singing a love song in public and the hot air balloon ride. I said I’d help Harry out with some of it. That’s why I’m calling you. I thought you could hook me up with Bressie and maybe figure out how we could have Richard sing in public.”

“In public? Like a karaoke bar? There’s one downtown in Manchester that’s pretty good. Wouldn’t be too hard to set up.”

“Oh, uh I guess that might work. I hadn’t been thinking about karaoke though. I was more on the idea of one of those open mics at those bars, you know, like the ones you do.”

“How do you know about that?”, Zayn asked embarrassed and shocked.

“Thought you could keep these little gigs of yours under wraps, did ya? Well, blame Niall and his big mouth.” Niall was their mutual friend of the past decade who couldn’t keep a secret to save his life.

“I wasn’t keeping it from you. It’s just not a big deal. Just been singing covers a couple of times a week.”

“Zayn! That’s a lot! You’re getting out there again; performing live. Why didn’t you tell me? I would’ve been right there in the front row, cheering you on.”

“I know, babe. And that’s sort of the reason I didn’t say anything. Sometimes your support and belief in me can be a little overwhelming. You’re like one of those overzealous stage mums on those shows that my sisters watch. I don’t need you to come to Joe’s pub on a random Tuesday being all proud mum and ‘look at my Zayn up there’ and beaming with that cute smile of yours that makes your eyes go all crinkly in the corners. It’s bloody annoying.”

Louis was stunned silent for a moment and although it hurt a little to hear that Zayn thought that Louis could be overbearing, he could also hear the affection and gentle teasing in Zayn’s voice.

“Do you ever sing Back For You?”, Louis asked timidly.

Zayn hesitated a moment before answering. “No. It would sound weird, wouldn’t it, with just me and a guitar. I’d need you on piano.” Zayn paused and Louis didn’t know what to say, but then Zayn started talking again. “I’m always up for performing a duet with you.”

“Yeah right.”, Louis scoffed. “That’s not going to happen anytime soon. But I’m happy to play piano for you some night.”

“Louis! You have a great voice. I don’t know why you put yourself down.”

“I’m not putting myself down. I’m just saying that no one needs to hear it, and I’d rather have your gorgeous voice singing one of my songs than my own.”

“You’ve been writing again, haven’t you? I have a bit too. Maybe we can work together on something new.” Zayn suggested.

“I’d like that. I’ve missed your face.” Louis didn’t know what else to say. He needed Zayn’s help more than he knew. Louis felt…stale, was the best way he could describe it. Nothing was motivating him, and he hadn’t had anyone special in his life for years. Zayn had always been one of his favorite muses. Louis then thought of Harry Styles and his ridiculously stunning face and body and his stupid taste in clothes and smiled. Maybe he’d found a potential new inspiration after all. He realized that Zayn was talking again and zoned back in just as Zayn asked him a question.

“So, Harry Styles huh? Is he still as nerdy and cute as he was when he was 17? All curly hair and dimples?”

“Yeah, he’s still cute alright. But he got tall and muscley too. Like he could and would rough you up during sex. He’s a right model. He’s terrible taste in clothes though.” Louis shook his head once more remembering Harry’s bright yellow trousers and the electric blue shirt he’d been wearing the last time he saw him.

“Is he single? Ask him out.”

“I don’t know! I don’t know anything about him, really. Does he even fancy men? I mean, he sort of looks like he does, and I caught him checking me out a few times last weekend, but I don’t know if that was really anything.”

“Hmmm, well your bum does have the power to turn all heads. But I remember he had quite the crush on you when we were teenagers.” Zayn added.

“What? No way.”

“Uh, yes he did. And just because he got all fit doesn’t mean that he doesn’t still want a piece of the Tommo.”

“Ugh. Could you not?” Louis winced, but Zayn only cackled out a laugh. “Zayn! Are you going to help me with this date for Daadi and Mr. Selley or what?”

“Yes yes, of course. Just tell me when and where.”

“Let try to get together in the next week. I can catch you up on what’s happened so far with this first dinner date and everything.”

“Okay, sounds good babe.” Louis heard the beep as Zayn ended the call.


	3. The best laid plans...

The next four days saw Louis and Harry keeping up a steady stream of communication through texts and phone calls. What initially started as a need to get the details of Richard and Laila’s date night at Spring sorted, turned into them just wanting to hear the other’s voice or make each other laugh over a funny text or gif sent. A typical phone call between them often started with Louis posing a random question.

“ **Did what’s his face win a silver or bronze medal in diving at the 2012 Olympics?”**

_“Tom Daley? Uh, he won a bronze medal. Why are you asking about him?”_

**“Oh, no reason. I was just talking about the London Olympics with Daadi and it had me thinking.”**

_“Why do you call Laila “Dahdi”? Was it something you or your sisters came up with when you were kids?”_

**“No, Daadi is ‘grandmother’ in Urdu. It’s what Zayn and his sisters called her and when me and my mum and sisters moved in with them it felt natural to call her that too.”**

_“I love it. The sound of it. I almost called her that myself the other day.”_

**“Ha! She’d love that, I’m sure.”**

During another call where Louis and Harry had initially been talking about the necessity and importance of alcohol while singing karaoke, the conversation had morphed into Louis reminiscing about living in London.

**“Best chippie in London GO!”**

_“Seventeen.”_

**“What?! No. Too hipster. Too fucking trendy. Sutton & Sons is the correct answer.”**

**“Best pub to watch an Arsenal game?”**

_“That’s easy. World’s End.”_

**“CORrect. Oh Harry, that’s music to my ears. I forgive you for the Seventeen misstep. A man who knows his pubs…where have you been my whole life?”**

When Harry boldly answered that he’d always been here right in front of him, Louis found himself speechless and glad that Harry couldn’t see him blushing over the phone. Neither of them knew what any of this meant or was leading to, but it sure felt nice to flirt and be flirted with.

Richard and Laila’s date night was shaping up nicely. Harry had arranged for a table for two to be set up next to the bank of windows that overlooked the garden area of Somerset House where the restaurant was located. He’d worked with the executive chef to make sure that the menu featured some of Laila’s favorite foods and flavors. That had been Louis’s idea. He’d called Harry late on Wednesday night to suggest it and Harry had somehow made it happen within 24 hours.

Louis was honestly impressed with Harry’s thoughtfulness, and even more impressed with his cooking skills, as he leaned back in his chair and patted his stomach. It was after 11pm the night before the “big date” and he and Harry were sitting in the back office of the Spring kitchen, enjoying beers after just finishing a delicious meal of steak frites that Harry had whipped up so easily that it had made Louis’s head spin. He smiled as he watched Harry endearingly eat the last bite of his steak, sticking his tongue out before placing the fork in his mouth. Harry looked up and caught Louis smiling at him.

“What? Do I have something on my face?” Harry asked as he dapped his mouth with his napkin.

“No. It’s nothing. Thanks for dinner, it was delicious. Do you think you could maybe teach me how to make it? I’ve never had homemade chips before, and now that I have there’s no going back for me.”

“This slander against your beloved Sutton & Sons will not stand.” Harry teased and dodged the napkin that Louis threw at his head. Harry cackled with laughter and Louis decided then and there that the ridiculous sound of it was one of his favorite things in the world.

“Come on, Harry. Give me a cooking lesson or two. You know you want to. Earlier I could see you itching to tell me what I was doing wrong when you asked me to help you and whisk that horseradish sauce you made.”

“Well you were whisking wrong.” Harry puffed out an exasperated sigh.

“What? How was I doing it wrong? How do you whisk?” Louis giggled.

“How do you…no, never mind. Yes Louis, I’d love to give you cooking lessons.”

“There. Then it’s settled. You can impart all your wisdom on me. Maybe I’ll get so good that I open my own chippie. Give it an awful pun name. I bet you like puns, don’t you Harry?”

“I am quite fond of them, yes.” Harry smiled so big and all Louis could do was stare at his pretty face with its dimples and Harry’s large but gorgeous nose, and he knew he was a goner. Louis felt a little helpless.

Harry meanwhile was struggling with his own problems. He couldn’t explain what was happening to him. If he was asked to describe it, he would’ve said that he felt almost lightheaded. Louis made him feel giddy. He felt his face smiling without his permission whenever Louis was around. The past couple of weeks spent with Louis working on his grandfather’s wish list had been some of the best times of his life. Harry didn’t want it to end.

Louis broke Harry out of his reverie by clapping his hands together and standing up to start clearing the plates and pint glasses they’d been using. Harry stood as well and followed Louis out of the office and back into the kitchen where he took the dishware from Louis and loaded it into the industrial dishwasher that would be run in the morning. They gathered their things and left out the back entrance that opened out into a little vegetable and herb garden that Harry had planted for the restaurant’s use. Louis had complimented him on it earlier in the day when Harry had showed him. Now only one street lamp gave enough light for the two men to walk down a set of stairs that led them out of a courtyard and onto the sidewalk. Louis took his sunglasses out of his jacket pocket and hooked them on the neck of his t-shirt. He then removed a pack of cigarettes from the same pocket.

“Do you mind if I smoke as we walk to the tube station?” Louis asked but must have seen some disdain in Harry’s features because he started to put the pack away again.

“I know I shouldn’t smoke. I’ve been trying to quit for years. Anymore, I really only do it when I’m nervous or stressed.” Louis gestured with his hand that they should walk.

“Do I make you nervous or stressed?” Harry hoped for a yes and wondered if it was the same reason that Harry felt nervous around Louis.

Louis stopped walking for a moment before continuing and answering. “Yeah, you do a little if I’m being honest. I find myself wanting to impress you and finding instead that I’m making a fool of myself around you.”

At this, Harry tripped over a crack in the sidewalk and Louis reached out an arm to catch him before he fell to the ground. They were standing close enough that Harry could smell the vetiver aftershave that Louis used.

“Does me tripping over my own feet in front of you at every opportunity give you an impression that I’m _not_ making a fool of myself in front of _you_?”

Louis let his hand linger on Harry’s arm long after he’d helped right Harry on his feet. He felt frozen and unable to make the first move.

They had decided earlier in the week that it would be easier for Laila and Richard to meet up in London for their date night, rather than making the 2 ½ hour train ride down from Manchester on the day of. So, Louis and Laila had taken the train into London on Thursday and were staying with Louis’s old roommate Cal, who now lived with his wife and son in a townhouse in Stoke Newington. Harry had driven up on his day off that week to get Richard and bring him down to stay in his flat. Now Harry had never regretted a decision more because all he wanted was for Louis to come back home with him and fuck him senseless into his mattress.

The two continued walking in silence, their arms and fingers brushing every so often sending shivers up Harry’s spine. His gut felt heavy with longing. He kept looking over at Louis wondering if he felt even a fraction of the same. As they approached the entrance to the train station that Louis would be using, Harry reached out and grabbed Louis’s delicate wrist.

“I really wish tonight didn’t have to end. I’ve had such a lovely time with you.”

“Tonight may be over but there’s still plenty of lovely times to be spent together.”

“You promise?” Harry smiled his question.

“Yeah, I promise Harry.” And with that, Louis lifted on his toes and brushed a kiss against Harry’s left dimple and then turned around and jogged down the stairs into the station.

***********************************************************************

Richard and Laila’s date was a smashing success. Louis got to hear all about it from Laila on the train ride north back to Ince, while Harry was regaled with stories from his grandfather about how lovely a woman Laila is as he drove him home that Sunday. Now that this important step towards winning the hand of the woman he wanted to marry was over, Richard was eager to move on with the other items on his bucket list.

Over the next month, Louis and Harry kept in constant contact. Without any input or help, Richard and Laila had gone on several more dates on their own in Ince. Louis and Harry discussed and analyzed each date afterwards, using the information that they’d gleaned from asking their respective grandparent how it went. If they weren’t talking or texting about some detail of their grandparent’s lives, they were arranging Netflix movie watching “dates” where they’d “virtually” get together and watch the same film while chatting in the WhatsApp group that they’d created for “Operation Gran – Slam” (the name was Louis’s idea). Sometimes they’d just stay up way too late texting each other about nothing important. And Louis continued his habit of calling Harry late at night after he’d gotten home from the restaurant and asking him random questions.

**“How the hell do you make floor polish sexy?”**

_“Excuse me? Why do you want to do that?”_

**“It’s the jingle I’m currently working on. I’ve got to make the ad sexy. But I don’t fucking know how to do that. I don’t even know if I’ve ever used floor polish before.”**

_“You’ve not cleaned a floor before?”_

Harry sounded quite horrified and Louis rushed to explain.

**“I’m not a complete wanker. I’ve cleaned before. But it’s usually vacuuming or like cleaning the bathroom tile, not wood polishing. Christ, none of these things are even remotely sexy.”**

_“Oh, I don’t know. Floor polish is supposed to make things shiny and bright, right? Maybe your jingle could be about a couple having sex on their living room floor and getting turned on because they can see their reflections in the wood floor.”_

All of a sudden Harry heard a great clatter over the phone.

_“Louis? You there? Did something happen?”_

**“Uh yeah…I just dropped the phone.”**

Louis changed the subject from floor polish after that.

******************************************************************

Harry and Louis had arranged for the next event in “Operation Gran Slam”, a night at a pub in Manchester presumably to see Zayn perform some new music that he and Louis had been working on, but additionally would have Richard checking off another item off his list as he sang “Some Enchanted Evening” to Laila. Harry was very excited for the weekend to get here, not only because of his grandfather but because he was going to get to hear Zayn sing some of Louis’s music. He’d been very surprised to find out that Louis had been working with Zayn the last few weeks on music. Most times when Harry had called or texted and thought that Louis was in his bedroom or living room working, it turns out that he had been with Zayn. Harry didn’t know why the thought of Louis spending so much time with Zayn made him jealous or why it bothered him that Louis seemed to not want to tell Harry anything about the songs he was writing. Oh who was he kidding? He knew exactly why he was jealous and a little hurt. Harry had to be honest with himself and admit that he was falling hard for Louis Tomlinson.

Harry had already tried to get Louis to show him some of the song lyrics or play some of a tune, but so far none of his begging had swayed Louis. He kept telling Harry that he wanted it to be a surprise. So when Harry found himself standing at the kitchen table in Louis and Laila’s house, while Louis was out in the garden helping Laila pick squash and saw that Louis’s notebook was on the table and open to a page of his writing, curiosity got the best of him.

Harry looked down to read what was written in Louis’s slanted and messy handwriting; handwriting that he’d come to know and grow fond of over these last several weeks as they had worked together on their little project. Harry hadn’t really meant to read more than a few lines; he really only intended to run his finger along the page like a lover’s caress, but then the words of the poem or perhaps song lyric caught his eye and he couldn’t help himself but read all of it. Before he could stop himself, Harry had picked the notebook up and was flipping through the pages to devour more of Louis’s secrets and brilliant words.

Love songs. Louis had filled his notebook with love songs, or poems, but Harry was sure that they were lyrics. Harry’s heart sank as he realized that he was falling in love with someone who just might love someone else. A particular page caught his attention, the words there raw and genuine.

_Only you know me_ _  
The way you know me  
Only you forgive me  
When I'm sorry  
Need you when I'm broken  
When I'm fixed  
Need you when I'm well  
And when I'm sick  
Friends that I rely on  
Don't come through  
They run like the river  
But not you  
Can't see when I'm falling  
Losing myself  
But then I hear you calling  
There you are  
You're there with open arms_

When he heard Louis and Laila’s voices coming towards the kitchen door, Harry quickly put the notebook back where he’d found it; hoping that he’d left it open on the same page it was before. Louis came into the kitchen and smiled at him, which only made Harry’s heart hurt a little more.

“I’m sorry, I have to go.” Harry started to make his excuse and started to gather his things to leave.

“What? I thought you were staying for lunch. Daadi is making a salad just for you! You can’t leave now.”

“Yes Harry, please stay for lunch.” Laila chimed in.

“No. I…I uh…I forgot that I have to work tonight.” Harry stammered.

“You said you had the next two days off. What’s changed?” Louis put his hands on his hips, annoyed.

“uh nothing. I just forgot okay?” Harry felt on the verge of tears and just needed to get out of there.

“Louis, if Harry has to work, he has to work. You can’t get mad at him about that, dear.” Laila putting a comforting hand on Louis’s shoulder.

“But Daadi, it’s ridiculous for Harry to have to drive 4 hours back down to London, when he was already planning to be up here for the next couple of days.”

“I’m sorry, Louis. I’m sorry.” Harry turned and ran out of the house and into his car. He didn’t start crying until he was at the top of the road.

**********************************************************************

Louis morosely pushed the last bit of his sandwich around on his plate. Ever since Harry had abruptly left almost an hour before, he’d been trying to figure out what had made Harry so upset. Because Harry was definitely upset; Louis had seen the tears beginning to well in his eyes. What had happened in the 10 minutes that Louis had been out in the vegetable garden? What had he done? Louis was quite sure that whatever it was, was his fault. He couldn’t for the life of him figure out how to fix things. Laila had been mostly silent during their lunch but reached over now to put a comforting hand on Louis’s arm.

“Dear boy, I wish you weren’t so sad. I was just starting to get used to your smile again over these last few weeks. I hate to see it disappear again.”

“Well, the reason for my smile just left. And he seems to be really upset with me and for the life of me I can’t figure out why.”

“Have you tried to reach him?”

“Of course I have, Daadi! I’ve texted and tried calling loads of time since he took off out of here looking like he’d just been slapped.” Louis sulked.

“I’m sorry, I’m just trying to help. You don’t have to bite my head off young man.” Laila rose from the kitchen table to put her dishes in the sink.

“No, I’m sorry. I’m taking from frustrations and my worry out on you. It’s just that…I…oh Daadi, I think I’m falling in love with Harry. Is that crazy? We’ve really only known each other for a couple of months, and I can’t count when we were kids because that was different. Harry has become someone that I want in my life all the time for maybe the rest of time. And that scares me because I know I’m not someone he’s likely to feel the same about and I don’t want to get hurt. But that feels inevitable.”

“From where I stand, I think Harry cares about you as much as you do him. Richard agrees.”

“You and Richard have discussed us?” Louis covered his face with his hands.

“Yes, we talk about you boys, all of our grandchildren really, quite often. Your happiness is important to us. And we both think that you and Harry make each other happy.”

“Harry’s certainly not happy with me right now.”, Louis got up from the table and grabbed his notebook and pen. “I’m going upstairs to write. It’s my turn to cook dinner tonight; what would you like?”

“You don’t have to worry about me tonight. Richard is taking me to the new Italian restaurant in town. He’s coming around 6 to pick me up.”

Louis didn’t know why this made him even sadder than before. Maybe it was because his grandmother seemed to be having more luck in her love life than he was.

“Well have fun. Don’t stay out too late.”

“Yes, dear.” Laila rolled her eyes and laughed lightly. “Please keep trying to talk to Harry. I know you two can work this out. If you want I can have Richard speak with him?”

“No. No please, I’ll deal with Harry myself.”

Louis headed towards the staircase feeling defeated.

*****************************************************************

Harry approached the entrance to the pub and stopped for a moment to take a deep breath. He’d be seeing and speaking to Louis for the first time in over a week; not since he left abruptly the day he saw Louis’s notebook of songs. A week may not be a long time in normal terms but considering how much time he and Louis had been spending together, this past week had felt tortuous. Harry was embarrassed that he had snooped and read Louis’s notebook, but he also angry with himself. He’d gone ahead and hurt himself again by falling in love with the wrong person. Except that Louis hadn’t felt like the wrong person. He’d felt right. He still felt right. So many times in the past Harry had given and opened his heart to people who he knew didn’t deserve him, but he did it anyway because he was lonely, or just wanted to be able to say that he was a couple; one half of two. What he felt for Louis was different; it felt like it could be a foundation for forever. But somewhere in the last month or so he’d fucked up and misread signals from Louis, because Louis obviously didn’t want him. Right? Harry wanted to be wrong.

When Harry walked into the pub he was surprised but pleased to see a large assembly of people and that the place was filled with a good mix of folks; a lot of the cool, hip Manchester crowd mixed with some of Richard and Laila’s neighbors and friends from Ince, along with what seemed like every member of Louis and Zayn’s family. Harry saw his own sister and mother sitting at a table with Louis’ sister Lottie near the front by the stage and made his way over to them.

“Harry love, come sit, we’ve saved you a seat.” His mother Anne waved him over and moved her purse from the chair they’d been saving.

“Hi mum. Gemma. Hi Lottie, it’s been a long time. It’s good to see you.”

“Harry, hi! You look even better than my brother said you did.” Lottie exuberantly jumped up and pulled Harry in for a hug as Harry’s heart skipped a beat thinking that Louis had talked to Lottie about him.

“You’re late, we thought you might miss everything. Grampa’s about go on. I don’t think that Laila’s caught on yet though.” Gemma pulled in close to whisper into Harry’s ear once he’d sat down.

The crowd in the room seemed to know that something was about to begin because the energy level appeared to rise while also the room getting quieter. Harry wondered where Louis was and looked around at the people he could see from his seat. He had just about given up, assuming that Louis was in the back with Zayn, when Harry saw both men slip in through a door off the side of the stage. Louis headed towards the back while Zayn started to climb the stairs to the small stage. The crowd began clapping and whooping for him. Zayn gestured to quiet them down as he spoke briefly to a guy who had come out on stage and sat at the piano. Harry felt the urge to get up and find Louis. He wanted to be with him to share this moment; it was something that they’d spent a lot of time planning together and it felt wrong not to be next to him to witness it. Before he lost his nerve, Harry stood and mumbled an apology to the three women who had turned to him with shocked faces.

Harry found Louis leaning against the long bar in the back. He was facing out towards the stage with his elbows resting on the polished wood and he looked relaxed and sexy in a maroon long sleeved shirt that showed off his gorgeous collarbones and neck. When Louis saw Harry approaching his face lit up with a smile before it quickly dropped to a frown; his eyes looking as nervous as Harry felt.

“Hi, Louis.”

“Harry hi. I was worried you weren’t coming when I saw Gemma and your mum and they didn’t know where you were. I’m really glad you’re here.”

“You are?” Harry hated how pathetic he sounded.

“Of course I am. This night is because of you, isn’t it? It wouldn’t be right, you not being here. And anyway I have something I want to…” Louis was interrupted by Zayn speaking into the microphone. He and Harry both turned towards the stage.

“Good evening, I’m Zayn Malik, thanks for coming out. I’ve been playing these little gigs here for the past couple of months and you all have been incredibly supportive, and I appreciate it. As a thanks I’ll be singing some brand new music for you all tonight that I’ve collaborated on with my best mate, my brother from another mother, Louis Tomlinson. We’re both excited to share it with you. But before all that we’ve got a special surprise. And it’s specifically dedicated to my grandmother, Laila Malik. Grandmum, everyone, please put your hands together for Richard Selley.”

Richard came out onto the stage looking amazing in a navy double-breasted suit. Instead of a tie he was wearing an ascot and Harry thought that he’d never looked so good. The room got quiet as he approached the microphone, although Harry could hear Laila exclaim softly “oh, Richard” and he felt Louis squeeze his arm in reaction. The piano started the opening measures and then Richard was singing the classic “Some Enchanted Evening” in his rich baritone. The crowd was loving it and the occasional supportive Woo rang out. Harry could feel the heat coming off Louis’s skin because they were standing so close together. Or was that his own body reacting to being in Louis’s presence again? Harry wanted nothing more than to reach out and hold his hand. Richard ended the song before Harry got up the nerve. The entire pub broke into cheers and applause and Richard surprised no one except maybe Laila when he professed his love to her from the stage and blew her a kiss. Laila was beaming with her clasped hands against her heart. Harry felt tears start to prick his eyes and decided he needed to leave. He said as such to Louis whose eyes went wide with concern.

“No, you can’t leave yet. You have to stay to hear Zayn sing. Please? It’s important to me.”

It was the please that stopped Harry, and he nodded at Louis who grabbed his arm again to squeeze it gently and smile. Harry cheerlessly returned to the table where his mum and Gemma were but found that his and Lottie’s seats had been taken by Richard and Laila who were holding hands and looking very much in love. Harry hated himself for feeling jealous.

He praised his grandfather and kissed Laila’s cheek before turning and sitting down in the chair that Laila had vacated. He nodded hellos to Zayn’s sisters who were sitting there. Two of them whispered together and looked at Harry which made him feel very self-conscious so he was glad when Zayn took the stage again.

“Hello again. Wasn’t Richard great? I’m sort of regretting having him go first because I don’t want to follow him.” The crowd laughed at Zayn’s joke as he sat down on a high stool and adjusted the microphone.

“This is a new song that I wrote called There You Are. It’s my first hand at writing lyrics, which is usually Louis’s job. And Louis did help me with the lyrics a lot. This time Louis focused mostly on the tune while words and sentiment are all mine. This is for Gigi, wherever she is in the world.”

Harry’s ears had perked up as soon as he’d heard the name of Zayn’s song and as he started to sing the words that Harry had read in Louis’s notebook over a week ago, Harry felt heart start to beat wildly and he had to remind himself to breathe. Those beautiful and romantic words didn’t come from Louis, they were Zayn’s; Zayn’s plea and pledge of love to someone named Gigi. Harry looked around for Louis hoping to be able to tell him how dumb he’d been, but he couldn’t find Louis anywhere. He tuned back into Zayn singing and marveled at how lovely the song was. When Zayn ended it the audience went wild, most of the people sitting getting to their feet and joining the rest of the pub in their cheers. Zayn bowed and thanked people and then encouraged the crowd to quiet as he spoke again.

“Okay, for this next one I was supposed to sing for you I’ve made a change. I was asked to sing it, but I feel like I won’t do it justice and the songwriter himself needs to come out and perform it for you. So please welcome to the stage, Louis Tomlinson.”

A yelp of protest could be heard from offstage and after a minute Zayn went off stage right and got Louis, physically pulling him out to stand in front of the crowd. Louis kept shaking his head back and forth while Zayn just nodded. Finally Louis seemed to slump in defeat and timidly sat down on the stool and adjusted the microphone as Zayn handed him a guitar. Zayn then waved to the audience and left the stage, leaving Louis all alone with a stage light shining on him and people growing quiet. You could see Louis’s hands shaking as he gripped the mic and quietly spoke into it.

“Hi. I don’t do this sort of thing normally, not ever, and I’m going to murder Zayn Malik later tonight so be glad you got to hear him when you could.” A few people in the crowd chuckled as Louis went on. “Um anyway, I wrote this song for someone. Someone who’s here tonight. And someone I hope isn’t too mad at me for this. And someone who maybe, I hope, might feel some of the same way I do. Anyway, Harry this is for you.”

Harry heard Louis say his name and indicate that whatever song he was about to sing was dedicated to him, but he felt frozen and outside of himself. One of Zayn’s sisters, he didn’t know which one, squeezed his shoulder and said that he was lucky, but Harry only felt awe and perhaps a little spark of hope. Louis began playing a simple melody on the guitar and then his pleasing rasping lilt came over the crowd.

_I envy the cup of coffee that kisses you every morning  
That pillow caressing your cheek when you are tired and yawning, mm  
I'm jealous of the steering wheel you wrap your hands around  
That seat belt's on your chest hearing your heart, holding you down  
I envy the cup of coffee that kisses you every morning  
Oh I would jump over the edge for you to get to you  
Ooh, ooh mm  
I'd walk an ocean to get to you  
It's unfair 'cause I'm missing you way too much  
I'm missing you, missing you way too much  
And I'm wishing you were right here because  
I'm missing you way, way too much  
And I know that it's so silly of me  
To be jealous of all these stupid things  
But I'm missing you, missing you way too much  
I'm missing you way, way, way too much  
And it's not fair_

As Louis repeated the first verse and chorus again, this time looking at Harry with a look that could only be described as pleading, Harry realized that his cheeks were wet from tears that he was crying. Louis ended the song and Harry jumped up from his seat. Louis stepped back in shock but then smiled at Harry, and that was all he needed to see to start making his way through the crowd to get to Louis who was coming down the side stairs off the stage. Harry met him at the bottom and before he could talk himself out of it, he pulled Louis into a kiss.

***********************************************************************************

Harry wasn’t sure whose Manchester apartment Louis was dragging him into, but he didn’t care. He just wanted to keep kissing Louis, and maybe have that kissing lead to something else. Louis seemed to be on the same page as they kicked off their shoes and he walked backwards through the apartment bypassing the living room, kitchen and a bathroom and seemingly headed for a bedroom. Once inside the room that smelled faintly of a cologne that sparked a memory in Harry’s mind, Louis pulled away from him and Harry had to abruptly stop so that he didn’t trip over his own feet.

“Is this okay? Are we moving too fast? We don’t have to do anything more than this. I can wait for however long you’d li…”

“Louis, will you just stop your nonsense and fuck me! And don’t stop kissing me, please.”

With Harry’s urging and permission, Louis gently pushed Harry onto the neatly made bed and stood between Harry’s knees and legs that were hanging half off the bed.

“I want to ravish you, Harry Styles.” Louis licked his lips and Harry saw so much want and desire in his eyes that he threw back his head and let out a sound halfway between a moan and a sigh of relief. Louis unbuttoned Harry’s jeans and pulled the denim down off his legs taking his socks with them. Louis then made his way back up Harry’s body, depositing kisses across his thighs and then mouthing at the cotton covering Harry’s hardened cock. Harry moaned again in pleasure and begged for Louis to touch him anywhere; everywhere. Louis slowly pulled back Harry’s underwear revealing his thick and long cock. Harry looked down his body at Louis and saw his devilish smile and wondered if he’d survive the night.

Louis began to lick and tease Harry’s balls, using his hand to stroke his shaft using the precum dripping from the head to help. He soon had one testicle completely in his mouth, as he heard Harry groan loudly. He continued to use his fingers, while he moved his mouth along Harry’s cock and up to his head. Louis licked and teased him, rubbing his tongue across the sensitive head. He soon then engulfed the entirety of the cock into his mouth, tasting him fully. He carefully sucked up and down, while still fondling Harry’s scrotum. Harry shouted out a warning that he was close, and Louis only deep throated him more, causing Harry to release as soon as he hit the back of Louis’s throat. Harry pulled Louis off and up so that he could kiss him and taste himself on Louis’s lips.

“You have too many clothes on still.” Harry protested as he ran his hands underneath Louis’s shirt, pulling it over his head.

“Let’s fix that.” Louis rolled off Harry and quickly divested himself of his jeans, socks and pants revealing his hard cock that was shorter in length than Harry’s, but thicker. Harry wasn’t sure he’d ever seen anything prettier. They kissed for several minutes more and Harry grew hard again. He took Louis’s earlobe into his mouth and sucked on it while he whispered a desperate “fuck me, Louis”.

Louis rolled himself to the side of the bed and opened the nightstand drawer, pulling out a bottle of lube and a condom. He crawled back over to Harry and kissed him deeply again. Louis opened Harry up tenderly using his fingers and his tongue with the lube and then he had Harry open the condom wrapper because his hands were too slippery. Harry did that trick of putting the condom on Louis using only his mouth and Louis thought he’d come right then. Harry was a living dream. When he slowly pushed into Harry putting Harry’s left leg up on his shoulder, Louis felt like he was coming home. He looked down at Harry and wondered if he could possibly love anyone more. At Harry’s pleading Louis began to move, working in and out of Harry who was clutching onto his biceps and making the most delicious sounds. Louis felt his balls tighten and knew he’d be coming soon so he reached down and stroked Harry’s shaft using a little lube from the bottle he’d thrown on the bed beside them. A few tugs and Harry was crying out Louis’s name, tightening on Louis as he came inside the condom.

Later, as they both laid in the bed sated and clean after a quick shower complete with mutual handjobs, Harry asked the question that had been on his mind for the past couple of hours.

“Lou, whose apartment are we in?”

Louis giggled and Harry smiled at the bright sound. “What, you thought I just brought you to some random flat?” Louis teased and tickled under Harry’s arm. “We’re at Zayn’s silly. He seemed to think that I would need the place to myself tonight. I don’t know how he knew.”

Harry smiled at that and cuddled closer to Louis, pulling the covers up over their chests. “Well, I’ll have to thank Zayn for being so thoughtful and generous.”


	4. Epilogue - all good things...

The beautiful August day was bright and breezy and not too warm; perfect for a hot air balloon ride. Richard and Harry had planned this part of Operation Gran Slam. The two of them along with Laila and Louis, and of course the balloon pilot Bressie, would all go up in the balloon and at some point Harry would hand over the engagement ring that Richard had made for Laila and which was hidden in Harry’s coat pocket, and Richard would propose. He had said that he definitely wasn’t going to get down on one knee because he was too old and he might not get up again, but Harry secretly wished he’d do it the traditional way. He’d always dreamed of a proposal happening like that to him. He looked over at Louis and smiled thinking about what their future could hold. They obviously weren’t ready for marriage yet, but Harry could definitely see them doing that someday. It warmed his insides thinking about a long life with Louis filled with kids and pets and happiness. But for now they were both too busy with their work lives to be able to focus on anything but dating each other, which they were both enjoying.

Turns out Richard had called in a favor to an old friend who worked for Capitol Records and who had come to the pub the night that Richard serenaded Laila. The guy was chuffed for Richard but even more impressed with Zayn’s voice and Louis’s writing talent. He’d offered Zayn a contract for two albums and Louis a staff writing job that paid him much better than commercial jingles did and insured that his songs would be heard on the radio, being sung by famous artists like Rita Ora and Sam Smith. Louis was living back in London in a flat not too far from Harry’s. They often talked about moving in together, but they weren’t in any hurry. They had time.

Just as they were about to load into the balloon, Laila stepped back. “Richard, I’m not going up in that death trap.”

“But Laila darling, I…there’s something special I wanted to do, I mean ask.” Richard sputtered out anxiously.

“Yes yes, I know you’re going to ask me to marry you. And no, the boys didn’t tell me; I saw you start to give them murderous looks. I’m way too smart for you dear man. And if you survive this foolish ride in a contraption that runs on _FLAMES_ , then I promise I’ll marry you when you land back on the safe and solid ground.” Laila crossed her arms and nodded, sure in her stance.

Richard responded with a kiss on her cheek and a shout to Bressie that they’d be one person short but that he wanted to go up and see the world from a different angle. Harry and Louis decided to still go because well, when did you get a chance to go up in a hot air balloon.

Fifteen minutes into their trip, with the towns and people and animals below them small and wondrous, Harry put his cold hands into his pockets and felt the velvet of the ring box. He pulled it out to hand back to Richard when he suddenly dropped it. Harry knelt down to pick it up and looked up to see Louis smiling down at him with an impish grin.

“Gonna ask me to marry you, are you Harry? Hmmm, I’m not saying no, but I think it’s best that we go on a few more dates before I agree to get hitched to you.”

“Just a few more dates? Well when do you think those dates could happen?” Harry stood and wrapped his arms around Louis, bringing him close.

“Oh, I’ve got some free time this month. Maybe Tuesday?” Louis stood on his toes and kissed Harry lightly on the lips.

“Tuesday works great. I know this small intimate restaurant in Camden that serves the best fajitas in town.” Harry dimpled.

“Sounds shockingly like your apartment, Harry. And since that’s my favorite place to eat, I’m in.” Louis snuggled closer and they both looked out at the green meadows below.


End file.
